


The Darkest Depths

by cosmiccrumbs



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Confinement, Dehydration, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Past Child Abuse, Rape, Starvation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmiccrumbs/pseuds/cosmiccrumbs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes was kidnapped at seven years old by Arnim Zola.  He's lived with several others in the underground rooms he has been confined to, but they all died.  Fifteen years have passed and Alexander Pierce is now in charge of him.  He brings Brock Rumlow to Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a purely self-indulgent project to practice writing 500 words per day. Tags will be updated as necessary.

From where he laid curled up on the bed in one of the bedrooms, he could hear the door unlocking and opening with a grating sound. He heard a few steps… one, no two sets… He imagined they were moving from the hallway to the living area. “Winter, come here,” a man’s voice said from the main living area. Winter curled in tighter on himself before forcing himself to roll over and stand. The socks on his feet made no sound as he padded into the living room.

In front of him were two people. One was an older man with a protruding belly and graying hair. The other was younger, although Winter would be unable to guess if the younger man was younger or older than he was. “I have brought you a new friend,” the older man said, gesturing to the other by tugging a rope that lead to the other man’s tied wrists. “I trust you’ll take good care in getting him settled in. I brought some food.” Winter glanced at the bag in the man’s other hand before looking back at the tied boy’s terrified face. Winter noticed he was gagged.

The older man walked towards the back of the room they were in to the kitchen area and set the bag on the counter, dragging the other boy behind him. He then moved over towards the bathroom area and tied the rope to the pipes under the sink. “He needs to stay tied up until I come back in a few days Winter,” he said, standing. He shoved the other boy to his knees. He hit the floor with a thud, but not a wince. The older man made his way back to where Winter was still standing. He ran a hand through Winter’s dark hair. It was starting to reach his shoulders. Winter immediately leaned into the gentle touch, keening for more attention.

“You take good care of him, and I’ll bring you a treat Winter,” the older man promised. “I have to go now.” With a final pat to Winter’s face, the older man turned away and left. Winter listened to the sounds of a door locking before moving to where the new boy was tied up. He looked scared as Winter kneeled down and fished the gag from his mouth, dropping the cloth on the floor.

“Who are you?” the boy rushed in a scared voice.

“Winter. You?” he replied sitting down.

“That’s not a real name.”

“Yes it is. It’s what I’m called,” Winter said anger leeching into his voice. “Now what’s yours?”

“Brock. C-can you untie me, please?” he hesitantly asked.

“No. He said not to.

“But he’s not here.”

“He’ll come back.” Winter abruptly changed the subject. “Are you hungry?”

Brock glumly nodded, resting his head against the wall. He had shoved his body between the wall and the sink. Winter stood and moved into the kitchen area. In truth, the kitchen was just a counter at the back of the living room with a mini fridge and a microwave.


	2. Chapter 2

Winter lined up the six cans of vegetable he had been brought with the others on the counter. Then he opened the fridge and considered its contents before deciding to feed Brock the grapes – they were the oldest food Winter had. He made his way back around the corner to the bathroom area and sat with the container of grapes between him and Brock. “Here,” he said.

Brock twisted his arms around trying to get his fingers into position to grab a grape. Winter huffed in frustration before tearing a grape from its stem and holding it to Brock’s mouth. “Thanks,” Brock murmured before eating the grape. This went on for a few moments before Brock asked, “How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know,” Winter said, trying to shut the conversation down by shoving a grape against Brock’s lips.

“We need to try and escape.”

“Fuck off,” Winter said, standing and taking the grapes away back to the fridge. “You can’t.”

“Man, you’re fucking brain washed,” Brock said, hitting his head back against the wall. “Maybe you actually like it here.”

Winter appeared in the opening to the bathroom and gave Brock a hard look. “Maybe you should actually listen to the person who has been here longer than half an hour and has dealt with Sir for much longer than you have,” Winter told Brock, implying that Brock was stupid.

“You call him Sir?” Brock asked incredulously.

“And you better to, unless you want to be punished.” Winter gave Brock a considering look before sitting back down. “I have to teach you how he wants us to behave, or we’ll both be in trouble.”

“What will he do?” There was actually a note of fear in Brock’s voice.

“Mostly he likes using his belt,” Winter said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“If you don’t know how long you’ve been here… you don’t know what year it is…” Brock hummed as Winter tried to figure out where Brock was going with this. “It’s 2015 out there. How old were you when you were taken?”

“Seven,” Winter offered up. “I think that makes me twenty-two or so… How old are you?”

“Twenty.” They sat in silence for a little while. “So, let’s get started on those rules that will help me avoid a beating? Maybe?”

Winter nodded. “Alright. First, you call him Sir. I don’t know what his real name is, but that’s what you have to call him. We have to exercise. Everyday. When he’s here, you just have to do what he says, and be polite. Don’t fight him. It’ll be easier on yourself, especially… especially when he takes you to the bedroom.” Winter refused to make eye contact, knowing exactly what he was implying.

“The bedroom? He’s going… to do that… to us?” Brock asked, the fear clear in his throat that had been absent when Winter had mentioned the belt.

“He leaves the lube here… if you want to practice…”


	3. Chapter 3

“I… Uhh… With you?” Brock stutters out.

“No! Of course not!” Winter says repulsed. “I would never choose to do that to you.”

“Oh.” The implication that Winter may have to do that to Brock, but not of his own volition hung heavy in the air. “What else is there?”

“We gotta bathe regularly,” Winter says glancing over at the tiny shower. “Otherwise it’s going to stink worse down here and that’ll make Sir mad.”

“Am I the second person he’s taken?”

“No. There have been others. And he isn’t the first Sir. There was another before him. I don’t know what happened to him…” Bucky trailed off, trapped in the memory of what he thought of as the Starving Time. The food had dwindled and eventually ran out, for the first time in Winter’s memory, even with how conservative he had been with it. He thought of the dead body he had woken up to one morning, next to him in the bed.

“Hey, hey, you there?” Brock snapped at Winter, watching him stare into space, the idea of just how long Winter had been down here sinking in with the idea that there had been another man, the one who must have taken Winter. Brock leaned his head against the wall in frustration as the other man didn’t respond. His wrists ached from how tight the ropes were tied and he couldn’t imagine how much they would hurt before he was finally untied.

He had really been hoping that Winter wasn’t bat shit crazy from how long he had been trapped underground but seeing as he was completely unresponsive, Brock was thinking he had been mistaken. He reviewed: kidnapped by a man in a business suit who seemed to think himself important, blindfolded for transport, and dumped in an underground set of rooms with a nut job. He internally chastised himself for accepting that drink at the bar. He flicked his eyes back to Winter who was now staring at him.

“Sorry,” he said a bit shyly. “I get a bit spacey sometimes… lost in thought you know? I think it comes from being down here so long… I-I don’t remember what the sky looks like anymore, not really anyway.”

Brock wasn’t sure how to reply that that and decided to change the subject: “What do you do down here for fun?”

“Um, I have a few books and board games. That’s it really. No TV or radio or anything like that though. When I was younger I would get brought workbooks for math and stuff sometimes,” Winter said. Having to admit his life like this made him deeply feel how sad and pathetic his existence was.

“Well, either way I’m not going to be doing much until… Sir,” Brock choked the word out, “Comes back.”

Winter lightly nodded his approval to Brock. “I’ll make something for supper later. Do you have anyone who’s going to be looking for you.”

“My sister, maybe… I’m not really sure. Do you have anyone?”


	4. Chapter 4

“No one is still looking for me, but I’m sure my parents and sister did. What about your parents?”

“Mum died of cancer when I was a kid and my dad, well, we weren’t exactly fond of each other,” Brock said glumly.

“I’m sorry about that,” Winter said. “I’m going to go make some dinner, okay? If you need anything, just yell.” He stood up and when back to look at the canned food on the counter. Winter was used to not eating very much food, or food with much variety, but he figured Brock wasn’t. The most creative thing he could decide on was the can of mixed carrots and peas. He dumped the contents in a bowl and popped it in the microwave until it was hot. He also opened a can of tuna and put it on a plate. Finally he filled two glasses with water which carried back to Brock first. Then he carried the food along with two spoons.

“So what is for dinner, Chef Winter?” Brock said, hoping the joke might make the other young smile. Instead he just looked confused.

“Uh, peas and carrots… and tuna. I hope you’re not a peaky eater.” Winter looked at Brock’s tied hands. “I guess I’ll be feeding you today.

“Your call man,” Brock said even as his stomach rumbled. Being fed by another guy was a situation Brock had never anticipated being in.

Winter picked up one of the spoons scooped up some vegetables before holding it to Brock’s mouth who complied and ate the veggies. He noticed that there was no seasoning. Winter continued to feed Brock, alternating between tuna and vegetables until about half was gone before switching spoons and starting to feed himself. “Thanks,” Brock told him.

Winter stood up and grabbed some dish soap from the cupboard underneath it to wash the dishes and silverware out at the sink. He took them back to the kitchen to dry off on the counter. “I’ll get you a blanket,” Winter said, passing the bathroom area and going to the bathroom to get one. He had two thin pillows but wasn’t willing to sacrifice one and give it to Brock. He delivered the blanket before digging through a drawer to find a new toothbrush. He opened the package and put toothpaste on it and held it towards Brock’s mouth.

Embarrassed, Brock opened his mouth and allowed Winter to brush. He did a surprisingly thorough job. Winter helped him stand and spit in the sink. Winter then moved his hands towards the fly on Brock’s jeans. “Hey! Woah!” said Brock, taken shuffling backwards, hands in front of him as best as he could to keep Winter away. “You said you weren’t going to do that kind of thing.

“You can’t hold it until Sir gets back. You’ll get sick,” Winter said blandly. It had happened before. Winter remembered how much his ribs had hurt after that punishment.

“Oh,” Brock said. He was still wary but moved back so that Winter could help him do his business.


	5. Chapter 5

Winter moved Brock in front of the toilet, reaching the end of the rope’s range. Winter averted his eyes as he arranged Brock and tried to tune out as he did what was needed. When finished, Winter resituated Brock’s jeans and helped him sit back down.

“I’m gonna…” Winter said gesturing at the toilet. Brock turned his eyes as Winter did what was needed. “I’m gonna go to bed now.” Winter immediately went to the bedroom and closed the door – the only door in the whole complex.

The next few sleep cycles – Brock learned it was impossible to keep track of days down here without light or clock – passed in a similar manner with Winter feeding him and helping him keep clean. Winter even gave Brock a sponge bath. Finally, Sir appeared again.

The two young men were sitting in the bathroom playing the story sentence game: one person started the story for a sentence and the next person continued and it went back and forth forming a story. Brock couldn’t help but notice that while Winter was very itno the game, it was barely holding Brock’s attention. He missed his video games and the internet for entertainment. He also missed his bed and bathroom and not having his hands tied together.

As soon as the door clicked unlocked, Winter stopped in the middle of his sentence. He shushed Brock who began to speak. “Kneel!” Winter exclaimed, assuming a position that Brock mirrored. Sir appeared in the doorway.

“How have my boys been, while I was away?” Sir said, fondness filling his voice.

“Very good, sir,” Winter said, flicking his eyes up for a moment before planting them on the ground again. “Brock has been very well behaved.”

“That’s not his name,” Sir said firmly.

“But – yeah, yeah it is,” Brock insisted, even as Winter glared to try and shut him up.

“Your name is Bones.”

“Yes, sir,” Winter said, interrupting Brock – Bones – to try and prevent him from getting in trouble.

“Yes, sir,” Bones repeated dully. 

“Did Winter do a good job taking care of you?” Sir asked, directing his words to Bones.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Sir pulled a pocket knife from his pocket and flicked it open. He grabbed one of Bones’ arms before he could flinch away and cut through the ropes binding his wrists together. Bones mumbled his thanks as he rubbed at his wrists, examining the rope burn and bruises that had been left from being tied up for so long. “Now how about we move to the bedroom boys? And Winter shall have his reward. The mouth, I think…”

Winter nodded and easily stood to follow Sir. Bones struggled to his feet and awkwardly limped along behind Winter, having spent so much time sitting on the floor. The little he had coaxed from Winter made him terrified of the bedroom. But perhaps his wait to be… forced… would be over.

Sir sat on the bed while Winter kneeled at his feet, Bones quickly followed suit.


	6. Chapter 6

“Come sit by me, Bones,” Sir said, gently patting the bed next to him. Bones quickly glanced at Winter who gave a small nod as Bones stood, suppressing the urge to run as far away as he possibly could and gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. “Since you’re new, your first task will be quite easy. All you have to do, is relax and let Winter take care of you. Enjoy yourself okay? This is a treat for both of you for being so well behaved while I was gone.”

The sweetness that laced Sir’s voice and the reality of what was happening made him feel sick to his stomach. Winter was moving between his knees, his fingers moving to his fly for the reason Bones had suspected just a short time ago. He swallowed thickly when Winter finally had his cock free. He sucked in a sharp breath as the head passed Winter’s lips. Bones – or rather Brock – had had multiple blowjobs in his life from a couple different girls, but this was the first by a guy. His flaccid cock reluctantly began to fill with blood.

Winter knew he had his work cut out for him if he wanted to end this before Bones became too humiliated. He had known all along that this was what his “reward” to be. He hadn’t bothered telling Bones because it wouldn’t have changed anything. He worked his tongue along Bones’ shaft, taking more and more of his cock into his mouth while one hand fondled his balls. He wasn’t surprised when Sir reached forward to pet his hair and encouraged him to take more and more into his mouth until the entirety of Bone’s erect cock was in his mouth and reaching into his relaxed throat.

As Winter worked over the other man’s cock with his mouth, Bones’ hips began stuttering as he tried to keep from thrusting. Sir gave a deep chuckle as he pet Winter’s hair. “Go ahead, you can thrust. Our dear Winter likes it rough,” Sir insisted, moving Bones’ hands to Winter’s hair. Winter made little moaning sounds at the back of his throat, the ones he knew Sir liked and he gambled that Bones liked too. Sure enough he felt the cock slide back and forth in his mouth as thrusting began, Winter licking along the shaft.

In only a few minutes more, Bones was spurting in the back of Winter’s throat as he quickly swallowed before the taste could linger to long on his tongue. He worked Bones through his orgasm with his tongue, before pulling off, sucking as much excess moisture off as he could, causing Bones to jerk at the over sensitivity. “How was your reward Snowflake?” Sir asked, gently stroking Winter’s cheek as he nuzzled into it.

“Thank you so much,” Winter said earnestly.

“Alright then why don’t you get up on the bed and get ready so I can have my turn? Bones, you should stay and watch.”


	7. Chapter 7

Winter immediately grabbed the lube before shedding his clothes, and setting down in the middle of the bed on his back. He immediately got to work stretching himself to make this as easy as possible on himself and Bones. He glanced to where Bones had retreated to a corner and flashed what he hoped was a comforting smile. If Winter could make it look like this wasn’t a big deal – like it was something easy and not painful – then Bones wouldn’t have to worry as much when it was his turn. Winter and kept meaning to instruct Bones on how to get himself ready for this kind of thing, but now he had a show on it and Winter felt he never had to broach the topic ever.

Winter worked quickly, adding fingers before he was actually ready because he was afraid Sir would stop him too early. It had happened before when Sir had decided that Winter wasn’t working quickly enough. When he finally was stopped by Sir, Winter actually felt pretty prepared. He rolled over, kneeling so that his ass was in the air and buried his head in his forearms.

He hear Sir undo his zipper and felt the blunt end of his cock press against his hole. Winter took a deep breath and forced the muscle to relax as he breathed out so that Sir’s cock could easily slide all the way in. Winter bit his lip at the slightly painful stress but, this was almost nice compared to the last time he and Sir had done this together. Sir reached around and stroked Winter’s cock until it was fully hard before moving his hand back to his hip.

Winter let his mind wander as Sir pounded in and out of him. His scope of things to think about was rather limited, so he recalled his imaginary friend Steve. Steve was scrawny, short, with blond hair and an attitude similar to a Chihuahua. Steve had many stories that Winter and the others that had come before Brock had made up over the years. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sir pounded into that place inside him that sent sparks through his body and made his dick twitch. He couldn’t help the small moan that snuck out between his lips.

“Good boy,” Sir praised, gripping Winter’s hips even tighter as he sped up his thrusts, the sounds of skin slapping skin becoming more distinct. “Are you going to cum on my cock little boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Winter agreed amicably as Sir continued hitting that place inside him. The sensation was overwhelming and Winter gave up fighting it and just let it wash through him. It took only a few more thrusts and Winter felt his cock spurting onto the bed. He briefly considered that he’d have to clean the stain before it dried since the gunk would come out easier that way. It took Sir a little longer to finish, but Winter knew when he was from the stuttering rhythm and the hot bursts of liquid inside him.


	8. Chapter 8

From his corner, Bones watched in horror, first as what Winter was doing to himself and then to what Sir did to him. It was awful and hard to watch, but he forced himself too, still in fear of the physical punishments Winter had alluded to.

Bones had a hard time coping with the fact that there was a strong possibility that next time, he would be the one with a dick being shoved up his ass. Winter made it look so easy to take though, almost as if it wouldn’t hurt at all. He decided that Winter must just be really used to doing this. He rubbed his hands along his thighs before balling them into fists. His knuckles turned white.

* * *

_“Steve… I’m so thirsty Steve,” Bucky said to the small blond boy sitting next to where he was tied to the bathroom sink. The rope was too short for Bucky to get any water from the sink._

_“It’s okay Bucky, he’ll be back soon,” Steve insisted, fiddling with the hem of his shirt._

_“Mom and Dad are going to kill me.”_

_“No they won’t. They’ll be so happy to see you when you go home,” Steve insisted._

_“If you say so.”_

_“I do, so it will be so.” Steve was always like that. He felt sure of his words even at seven years old. Usually Bucky had a little more fight in him, but the food and water deprivation had weakened him._

_The room smelled of stale urine. There had been no hope of making it into the toilet from his position under the sink and so Bucky had just aimed as far from himself as he could. He had felt dirty and disgusting for not being able to use the toilet and urinating on the ground._

* * *

Later on, Winter and Bones laid together on the bed. Winter had been tired when Sir finished and had retreated to bed once he had cleaned up and left. Bones volunteered to make dinner and tried mimicking the spare meals Winter had been feeding him during his time tied up. Now though they rested in the dark.

“You were lucky you had me,” Winter said quietly.

“Hm?” Bones said, not sure if he had heard Winter properly.

“I didn’t have anyone when I first got here,” he said, rubbing the material of his blanket between his fingers. “I thought I would die of thirst before the first Sir ever came back.”

“I am thankful for everything you did,” Bones said.

“Good,” Winter mumbled and rolled over, leaving Bones to consider a much younger Winter, tied up, alone, and thirsty. He could not imagine trying to survive his first days here without anyone to help him. Winter must have been the first then. He wondered how many kidnapped people Winter had lived with through the years. Bones quickly tried to abandon that line of thought when it struck them that were all dead. He wondered if he would be the next to join the dead.


End file.
